Behold This Little Bane- The Boon Of

At Least To Pray Is Left - Is Left Oh Jesus - In The Air - I Know Not Which Thy Chamber Is - I'm Knocking Everywhere.

There's A Certain Slant Of Light, Winter Afternoons— That Oppresses, Like The Heft Of Cathedral Tunes— Heavenly Hurt, It Gives Us— We Can Find No Scar, But Internal Difference, Where The Meanings, Are.... When It Comes, The Landscape Listens— Shadows—hold Their Breath— When It Goes, 'tis Like The Distance On The Look Of Death.

I'm Nobody! Who Are You? Are You – Nobody – Too? Then There's A Pair Of Us? Don't Tell! They'd Advertise – You Know! How Dreary – To Be – Somebody! How Public – Like A Frog – To Tell One's Name – The Livelong June – To An Admiring Bog!

I Tasted Life.

Saying Nothing... Sometimes Says The Most.